February 9 - Port Arthur, Tasmania

We arrived this morning at our anchorage off Port Arthur which is on the southeastern tip of the island of Tasmania.  It’s about 60 miles SE of Hobart, the capital of this state.

The first English settlement here was a timber station in 1830, but in 1833 it became a penal colony.  It functioned as such from 1833 to 1877.  Prisoners were sentenced to 7, 14 or 21 years depending on the severity of their crimes and prisoners as young as 9 years old were transported.  I thought about my grandson who will be nine soon and tried to imagine the trauma of taking a child and transporting him halfway around the world from anything or anyone familiar to him.  It was barbaric! There were two prisons, the Penitentiary for most convicts, and the Separate Prison for the most serious offenders,  repeat offenders, or those who attempted to escape.  Prisoners were expected to do hard labor which was supposedly to teach them a trade for when they were released.  Floggings were administered when a convict committed some infraction.  The Separate Prison was especially bad.  There prisoners were kept in solitary confinement, sometimes with bags over their heads, and were not allowed to speak.  All prisoners were expected to go to chapel and it was the only opportunity for those in the Separate Prison to use their voices because they could sing there.  Many of those convicts became mentally ill as a result of their treatment. Port Arthur was an ideal place for a prison because it’s attached to the mainland of Tasmania by a narrow isthmus only about 100 feet wide.  At that place special guards and dogs were placed to catch any potential escapees

The ruins of the Penitentiary

Now that I’ve told all about the place I confess that I only saw what’s left of the buildings from across the water from where I went ashore.  I understand from some fellow passengers that there was a museum where one could see leg irons and whips and what cells looked like.  I opted to go on a happier tour.  I went to a wine tasting and a lavender farm and distillery.

I had a picture in my head of what this island should look like and I was absolutely wrong.  I envisioned a rocky, sort of desolate place and instead the area around Port Arthur is heavily forested. Tucked in between as we rode along were small pastures with a few sheep and a few cows.  I think the principal source of commerce here is tourism and timbering but I may be wrong.

The wine was okay, not as good as the Yarra Valley wine I had a few days ago.  The wine maker who told us about what we were sampling was very enthusiastic and educational. The climate and terroir here in Tasmania is especially good for Rieslings.  I’m not a big fan of that varietal so that probably accounts for my opinion of the wine I tried.

At the lavender farm we had a scone with lavender cream, butter and jam. We also got to sample lavender chocolates and was that ever delicious.  The sixth generation is running the farm and distillery.  When I heard distillery I thought they were producing lavender gin.  Instead they distill lavender oil to be used in soaps, lotions and foods like we sampled.  It takes 60 kilos (132 lbs.) of lavender blooms to make 1.5 liters (about 1.6 quarts) of lavender oil.   After the lavender farm we traveled back to the tender dock which turned out to be good timing because it began to rain and the wind picked up.

Back on the ship the captain came over the PA system to tell us that the swells were increasing and that  we would experience some movement again when we departed.  But, we only had 40 plus miles to sail to our next stop Hobart.  Even better was the fact that another cruise ship was sailincould take her dock then.

True to his word when we left Port Arthur we began our rocking and rolling again.  The rain had stopped and as we left we passed magnificent sea cliffs made more beautiful by the late afternoon sun shining on them.  Along one end the cliffs looked like pipes of a giant organ.  I ventured onto my veranda in the howling wind with some sea spray around me to get a few photos and a couple turned out pretty well.

It was a nice day, but the highlight was the show and dancing afterwards.  Sometimes you just feel really in the mood and tonight was one of those nights.  It’s a cliché, I know, but I really could have “danced all night.”  Unfortunately tomorrow is another day and I really hope to see a Tasmanian Devil.  So, I guess I’d better say nighty-night for now.